Page 132 of A Courage of the Chosen

It takes a godly amount of willpower to stay still against the tree when he carves into her beautiful skin with his talon, and the sight of blood trickling down her neck awakens the beast within me that might have been shaped by him, but is far more deadly.

“Look how pretty you bleed,” he says, staring at the droplet of red. “I could kill you.” I can read everything he’s not saying, the warning tucked around the precarious hush building tension at the base of my spine.

“But maybe I’ll keep you instead.”

The only words that could cause ice to roll through my body, and the only thought going around my head is mine, mine, mine.

He gathers his power and my darkness answers in kind. It rushes to the surface with one goal in mind, keeping Elsie far away from my father.

There’s a scuffle, Elsie is both dragged and pushed by my cousins at the same time, and I pause mid-step as Father’s magic hits Rachel in her chest.

The group are suspended in time as the events unfold before them.

Rachel’s back goes rigid, and the life that was held in her features moments before, evaporates. In her place is one of his soldiers. Irises ringed by black, Dorche magic now seeping out from the ends of her fingers, instead of mist.

The effect is immediate, and after a pause where the reality of what’s just happened lands, Broderic goes feral. His eyes glaze over, and his body vibrates with rage as he launches himself at Father.

Elsie crouches low, pushing herself off the ground into a high leap with her short sword gripped in both hands, tip aiming straight for his core. With a wicked snarl from behind bared teeth, mist trails her through the air as her eyes begin to cloud over until there’s no pale green left.

Callahan stares into the face of his twin, body frozen and sword lowered, but when the light crackles down the length of Elsie’s blade, and Broderic closes in on my father, I see the thing in him that fractures. A fissure in his soul that’ll never be repaired.

He tips his head back to the sky, and roars.

It’s guttural. More animal than man, and it shreds through the forest, birds scattering in the wake of the anguish contained within it.

Then Callahan explodes.

He discards his weapon entirely as brilliant light surrounds his hands, traveling up his arms until it reaches his shoulders. He runs faster than I’ve seen any Seelie ever move, beating both Elsie and Broderic to my father, despite how close they are, and tackles the eleven-foot beast into the nearest tree.

Father’s maniacal cackling cuts off abruptly, replaced by a growl as Callahan showers unrestrained blows onto him. Light-gilded talons, the perfect counterpart to the ones he’s bound with mist and pinned to the forest floor, shred and slice in blind rage.

Elsie and Broderic pause their advance, and even I’m taken aback by the way Callahan tears flesh with his bare hands.

Grunts and hissing and growling, and the distinct sound of magic meeting bone rend through the air. Blood so dark it’s almost black squirts in streams, coating the trees, the ground, Callahan’s fists, and my father. He manages to get his feet between himself and Callahan, kicking him in the chest and sending my cousin careening away. Broderic catches him, and before he can help right his friend, Callahan is throwing himself at Father again.

He’s ready for him this time, and black arms band around Callahan as Father’s jaw hinges wide, aiming for the jugular. It’s blocked by an elbow, and red blood joins the growing pool of fluid at their feet.

Broderic tries to join the fight, but he’s beaten away by a beam of light.

“CALLAHAN,” he thunders.

He’s met with a growled, “Mine!” and the fight continues.

I should do something to intervene, but part of my mind whirs with the options at my feet, the other part quite content to have Father receive a taste of his own medicine.

My weapons remain exactly where they are.

Callahan caught Father by surprise before, but the tide is starting to shift. If there’s one compliment I’ll ever pay the man who I share half my DNA with, is how quickly he adapts to his opponent. He isn’t the best warrior, but he’s fucking smart.

He’s learning Callahan’s patterns quicker than he can shift things up, and the leather armor he’s wearing is no match for the claws that come at him. Within a few moves, it’s almost disintegrated into nothing, and red blood spills down Callahan’s chest.

It only fuels him, though. He goes for the beast’s legs and sends them both tumbling to the ground again. Callahan forces his hand through Father’s chest cavity, his fist disappearing into blackened flesh, and an unhinged smile splits my cousin’s face.

The hesitation costs him.

Shadows heft Callahan high into the air, and hold him suspended while his light desperately tries to break his bindings.

Blood drips from a monstrous maw as Father rumbles and snaps his teeth while his body slowly mends itself.